


improvise

by gortysproject



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically The Fic Of "What If Jacobi Got The Lock Open", Gen, Hera's only very brief, Jacobi Being An Ass, Klein and Berkhof make brief appearances, Lovelace Being Badass, Spoilers up to episode 55
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12293097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gortysproject/pseuds/gortysproject
Summary: jacobi gets the lock open, and he and lovelace get to work.





	improvise

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in about 20 minutes sue me okay  
> inspired by lesk on the discord saying something about jacobi getting the lock open so he and lovelace can save the day together, which is now the canon ending to ep 55 thanks

“Listen to me,” Hera is gritting out, speakers crackling, pain radiating through her voice—her voice? Whether it can really be considered _hers_ anymore is anyone’s guess— “I don’t have much time, and this hurts very… much. _Eiffel_.”

Lovelace freezes. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jacobi hesitate too. Hera continues. “Eiffel is _alive_.”

A sense of relief washes through her, and she exhales gently as Hera keeps talking. “He’s back, but—they got him. They’re taking him to—”

The speakers crackle again. She cuts off.

“Hera?” Lovelace asks, hopeful that she can come back, break through again, get out of Dr Pryce’s clutches for even a _second_ longer to help them. To help Eiffel. “ _Hera_?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jacobi murmurs. “Definitely screwed.”

Lovelace drops her head to hit against the wall. Her eyes scan the room—Hera’s speaker, no air vent large enough for them to pry open, no hidden doors Hilbert could’ve made use of, _nothing_. They’re trapped.

Or, rather, they’re trapped until a distinct clinking sound re-erupts from Lovelace’s left, and she sighs, hissing, “Jacobi, it’s not gonna—”

There’s a click. Jacobi catches the door before it can slide open. “Budge,” Lovelace finishes softly, staring at their new opportunity. Jacobi keeps hold of the door but turns around to face her in the zero-gravity, grinning obnoxiously.

“Okay,” he starts cheerfully, “plan. Sounds like Eiffel’s a top priority, so—”

“I think,” Lovelace interrupts, “the top priority here is the _guards outside our door_.” Jacobi’s eyes flicker back to the door he’s holding onto, and Lovelace raises her eyebrows at him. “You know the Urania better than I do.”

Jacobi wrinkles his nose as he thinks. “I’ll assume Riemann’s doing something better with his time. And if Eiffel’s back, and Minkowski’s still somewhere else, and Kepler… there’s still only going to be one or two of ’em out there. We didn’t hear anyone else enter, too.”

“What exactly would you be listening out for, their _footsteps_?”

“Shut up.” His brow is furrowed now. “If Berkhof and Klein are still the only ones outside, then we’ve got a shot at this. Two of them, two of us.” He pushes up his sleeves, then, and grins at Lovelace. She knows to fear that look by now. “Remember,” Jacobi says, “get their guns.”

Then he pushes the door open, and propels himself through.

“ _Jaco_ — _oh—shit_.” Lovelace’s _what’s the actual plan, here_ dies on her tongue as one of the armed soldiers grabs onto Jacobi as he pushes himself past. The momentum is too much, though, and with no hold on the interior of the ship, Jacobi only ends up spinning and taking the soldier with him. Lovelace stows the anger that flares up inside her and follows him. Before the other guard can react, she kicks him in the chest, shoving him into the wall and taking the momentary surprise as her chance to snatch the gun from his hands.

It’s clear the Hermes crew are used to working without gravity, but apparently their time spent on the Sol hurt that—and, besides, _nobody_ is as good as Isabel Lovelace.

Jacobi hits the far wall with a grunt, the other soldier still holding onto him and trying to pin him down. Again, it’s a relatively impossible feat with no particular surface to pin him _against_ , and Jacobi just laughs and shoves away from the wall again—back towards Lovelace. She’s prepared, now, and in one fluid motion she catches Jacobi’s collar in her free hand and presses the barrel of the gun against the soldier’s helmet.

They all hesitate for a moment.

“I’ll bet a bullet would go right through this hunk of plastic,” Lovelace murmurs. “Anyone wanna disagree?”

One of Jacobi’s hands wraps around a handle in the wall, and his foot kicks out to knock the walkie talkie out of one of the guard’s hands. He then delicately unholsters the gun from the other guard and cocks it, lips curling happily at what Lovelace can imagine is a familiar weight in his hands.

The gun is raised to aim directly between the second guard’s eyes, and he asks Lovelace in a tone that almost sounds _bored_ , “What do we do with ’em?”

A sigh escapes Lovelace’s nose. She still hasn’t let go of Jacobi’s collar. “They’re not just— _killing machines_ , clearly,” she replies slowly. “They recognise defeat. Not gonna attack when we’re pointing their own guns at their faces.” She glances back at the common room. “Lock them in where we were?”

Jacobi nods, and Lovelace pushes the first guard inside. She lets go of Jacobi; he follows with the second guard. Grabbing both of their walkie talkies, Lovelace pushes the door shut again, and Jacobi inputs what looks to be some Urania-specific code that Lovelace _really_ ought to be aware of by now, locking the door into position.

“Well,” Jacobi says into the silence, “that went pretty—”

Lovelace grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him up, eyes narrowed. “What the _hell_ was that?” she hisses.

“ _Hey—_ ” Jacobi starts, wriggling away. It doesn’t work, and Lovelace’s vice-like grip on his flight suit stays the same. “Look, we didn’t know what was gonna be out here. Planning some punch-by-punch escape wouldn’t have worked, and I know you’re good at improvising.” He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Aaaand, it worked.”

A moment of silence passes between them.

“Just,” Lovelace starts heavily, resisting the urge to wipe a hand over her face, “ _tell_ me when you’re about to throw the door open and dive _literally_ headfirst into a situation. I _am_ your superior, now, remember?”

Jacobi snorts. “Yeah, I think I noticed somewhere down the line. But—fine.” He pauses. “Wanna go find _our_ commander? ’Cause this position really feels like you’re about to make a move on me, and I _did_ just say girls aren’t my thing, so—”

Shoving him away with a huffed laugh, Lovelace replies, “Technically, all you said was that guys _are_ your thing. Works out, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she starts, checking her new gun for ammunition and pushing away towards the Hephaestus, “girls are _my_ thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, find me @aihera on tumblr


End file.
